Two Shots
by Commentaholic - Alpha 02
Summary: Five years have passed since the incidents involving Project Icarus, Jacknife and Pope's death. But the battle isn't over. The Runners have expanded into a fully-functional underground movement. But every New Eden has its serpent.
1. Prologue: Starry Night

**Two Shots**

By Commentaholic

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>: _Starry Night_

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><p><em>You know... <em>

_It's nights like this, when the clouds pull back and reveal the stars twinkling overhead, that remind me of the past._

_Science tells us that the lights we see looking down on us from that ebony blanket are merely after-images... or pre-images... I forget which. In any case, the light we see was created by those stars thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of years ago..._

_They are the epitome of persistent memories, allowing us see them even after they have expended their fuel and burnt themselves out... And what are we when compared to them? _

_We are but insignificant pinpricks in the grand scheme of things... lasting our paltry number of years before expiring, dwindling to dust beneath the ground, leaving next to no trace of who we once were..._

_Then why does **her** memory haunt me so?_

_-Sly's Journal, April 4th, 2039_

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><p>"Alright guys, listen up. This is important," said the man standing by the situation board as I entered the briefing room.<p>

My mind went back to the time before such rooms were required, when all the Runners needed was a dispatcher and some headset radios. That was a simpler time, when Runners ran solo and made connections instead of having to run in packs. But when one fights wolves, one has to think like wolves, and we were fighting the Big Bad Wolf of The City's police force, backed as it was by the government's deep pockets. Such things became necessary for the Runners to survive.

Runners... Runners are basically aggrandized couriers with a penchant for the color red. Except we do the jobs that no sane courier would do. We traverse the rooftops, leaping from building to building to get information and messages from senders to recipients without the cops poking their noses into the stuff we carry. And the administration of The City doesn't like that. Not one bit. They don't like what isn't under their control.

And the Runners? We are the definition of the phrase "Wild Card."

I was so focused in my thoughts that I almost missed the most important part of the briefing. My attention returned to Dex, the guy running the show here in the Southern Quadrant.

"We received this transmission from the Eastern Hub about half an hour ago. I sent out the call for you all to be here as soon as I did." he said, keying a button on his terminal. An old man's voice issued forth from the speaker, a voice I recognized as belonging to Walter, or Walt as he'd like us to call him.

"_They've taken the upper floors - - - 'bout to break - - - Lex and Dan are -"_

There came the sound of gunshots and an explosion shattered the already sketchy clarity of the recording. Walt's voice was lost to static, a sound that was, thankfully, cut short by Dex's index finger upon the terminal once more.

"After that, all transmissions in and out of the Eastern Hub were silenced. We can only assume that we've lost the Eastern Sector's main control center." he said grimly, running his fingers through his long, greasy black hair.

"But how'd they find it?" Hops, the athletic African-American Runner asked from where he leaned against the wall, "The Eastern Hub was the best defended. And the best hidden. It had to be, what with it being in the middle of Bulldog Central."

Bulldog. That was the name we'd come up with for the smaller divisions of the police department. The private security that always seemed to be hired out to take out us Runners.

"I know, but somehow they got in, took out the security and killed all of 'em." Dex said, shaking his head, "I sure hope we don't have another Jacknife on our hands."

Jacknife. That bastard.

Jacknife had been one of the best Runners in town. Back when there were only a couple dispatchers and a handful of runners for each of them. Then he retired... Then he went rogue. He began training the cops to think like us, to move like us. To kill us. It'd been Faith who had taken him out of the equation, and along the way, took out the servers for the entire city, launching our business to an unprecedented level by knocking out electronic communications.

"And it gets worse."

Worse? _Worse? _What could be worse than losing an entire sector's worth of contacts and communications? Losing dozens of friends and associates in one fell swoop?

"They captured Kreeg."

Oh God no.

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><p><strong>AN: I'm trying a brand new approach to this story. Something special. Something I've never tried before... Hopefully some of you will figure out what I've got going here.**


	2. Chapter One: The Runner's Creed

**Two Shots**

By Commentaholic

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><p><strong>Chapter One: <strong>_The Runner's Creed_

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><p><em>There's a rule in the Runners: "Nobody gets left behind".<em>

_This rule wasn't created out of loyalty. It's about security. A single Runner captured could mean the destruction or capture of a large portion of our operation. _

_As such, each time a Runner gets captured or gets killed during a mission, a team is sent out to collect them, alive or dead._

_It's a funny thing... I always thought this way of thinking was callous... that was before I joined, though. When I joined the Runners, it became all too clear to me why they took such precautions._

_When they are dead, it is done out of respect. They were our friends. Our allies._

_When they are alive, it's because they have information._

_Because those left behind can be turned against us._

_Because one that was left behind _did_ turn against us._

_Because that one that was left behind... killed my best friend last night._

_-Sly's Journal, December 14th, 2038_

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><p>My heart pounded in my chest as I sprinted along the rooftops of Grant Avenue. I skidded around the corner, Hops and Digit right behind me as we leapt down to the next building. My arms and legs were pumping as I climbed up towards the crane's controls.<p>

My hands found the quick release that popped the door open. I quickly slid into the seat behind the controls. As quietly as I could manage with the heavy machinery, I swung the arm of the crane so that the tip was scant feet short of the building across the way. I heard my friends' feet clanging against the span's metal structure and I leapt up to follow them.

The enemy had Kreeg. This was not good news.

Faith would be pissed.

_Beyond _pissed.

And so we had to get him back. The Runner's Creed was absolute in this matter. Not just because he was Faith's friend. Not just because he was a fellow Runner.

No, those reasons were all too simple. They just made the case that much easier to render a verdict.

What really sealed the deal was the fact that Kreeg was the Communications Coordinator for every Hub to the east of CenComm. He was too valuable to lose.

That was why Digit, Hops and I were sent.

Faith couldn't make it. As much as we knew that she wanted to get involved, she was already tied up with another operation on the West side of The City.

And that was why I now found myself running along a wall, my red shoes (Don't ask me why. It's just part of the uniform to have red _somewhere... _As if nobody else in the world wears red...) sliding lower and lower while I reached out to grab a ledge that was _just _out of reach.

A hand darted out and caught my arm before I could fall too far. I looked up to see Hops' face grinning down at me. "You really should be more careful with those rookie mistakes, Sly."

"Oh hush," I said, "Just because _you_ could make the jump..." I grumbled as I dusted myself off.

We regrouped inside a gutted AC cooling tower, not unlike the one that Merc's group of Runners had based itself out of in the old days, to go over the plan.

"Alright, so we are... here," Digit said, pulling out a map and indicating our location amid the outlines of buildings and the well-traversed Runner Routes marked in red. "Across the street from the old Pirandello/Kruger place."

After the events of five years previous, it had become obvious that, despite all of PK's bluster about 'Securing Your World', they hadn't even been capable of keeping out Faith, who had managed to take out countless members of their staff, even going so far as to infiltrate the same building that we were looking at now. PK had lost credibility, though it still owned the property and still kept up a sizeable defense force, which led us to believe that there was more going on in the building than just a failed security company.

"From what I hear, that place is locked up tight." Hops said, "Ain't nobody gettin' in there."

"Well, hopefully that's not the case." I said, grabbing the map and handing it back to Digit. "Because that's where we're going..."

I looked at the illuminated Doberman logo of the Pirandello/Kruger Company Offices.

"Right into the hornets' nest." I finished, setting a foot out of the AC cooling tower.

"Let's hope we don't get stung..." Hops mumbled as he stepped up next to me.

"You know that's right." I chuckled, hopping down onto an overhang, rolling as I landed.

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><p><strong>AN: I'm really having fun with this... can't you tell? Perhaps my favorite bit is the journals.**


	3. Chapter Two: Seeing Red

**Two Shots**

By Commentaholic - Alpha 02

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: <strong>_Seeing Red_

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><p><em>The Runners' color is red.<em>

_We see red while we Run._

_We wear red._

_I once asked Faith why the first Runners had chosen red. She explained it something like this:_

_"You see, Sly," __she said, holding up her red-gloved hand so that I could see it clearly, "We Runners are a brotherhood. We watch out for each other. Red is our badge of membership. But it's more than that. We Runners are the blood of The City. Without us, the Resistance would fall apart and the populace would fall to apathy."_

_"What?" I had asked, not understanding._

_Faith laughed, placing that red-gloved hand on my shoulder, "It's alright. I didn't get it either. But don't worry. You will."_

_It took me a while before I understood the third meaning. The one that Faith had kept from me. _

_In the end... no matter who we are... _

_We are still mortal._

_We all bleed the same._

_And our blood is red._

_-Sly's Journal, November 29th, 2038._

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><p>With a grunt, I popped the vent cover off, rotating it and pulling it back into the air duct, setting it down gently so that it wouldn't raise a ruckus. I peered down into the main room. A catwalk below the vent crossed the room at a reasonable height. Below, I could see two guards walking along the wall, making sure that doors were secure. They were expecting... 'visitors', though they obviously were underestimating us. If they'd been expecting a half-decent Runner, then they would've welded the vents shut.<p>

Which led me to believe that they were either rookies...

or this was a trap.

"_Amateurs,"_ I whispered, knowing that it wasn't true, no matter how much I wanted to believe it. This was too easy, and we all knew that when something was 'too easy', that usually meant a trap. But in this case, and in this mission alone, we couldn't back out while we were ahead. Not this time.

Regardless, we had to get inside the main offices. I peered across the shadowed interior of the building at those offices, suspended as they were above the ground near the roof. The blinds were drawn across the windows, but the lights were on inside and were casting beams of light across the room and towards us. I ducked a bit lower to avoid one of them hitting me and shining brightly off my red shirt. I slipped down onto the catwalk without a sound and silently sprinted to the next junction, head whipping back and forth to watch for new patrolmen that we had missed. Hops slipped out of the vent next, then Digit. They joined me at the three-way junction.

One path headed back the way we came, one led around the right side of the offices and the last led around the left side. We could ambush them.

"Digit, cut left. Hops, you're with me on right." I said. The others nodded and obeyed. Hops and I headed right while Digit went left. I saw her poise by the door and draw her custom-made pistol designed with a circuitry pattern along the handle, with several gadgets attached to it. She pulled out a silencer and screwed it onto the barrel, nodding at us.

As Hops and I arrived at our door, he pulled out a shotgun which was - for whatever reason - fitted with a laser sight. I shrugged and hopped up over the door and pulled myself onto the offices' roof. I searched around for a drophatch. Every building always had one.

I pulled out my own pistol, its handle marked with symbols much like Runner tattoos. I checked the ammo of each clip that I was carrying. Everything was set. I slid the first clip solidly into the handgun with a reassuring _click_.

I soon found the hatch and triggered the signal on our headsets, telling them to breach the building. We all knew what we had to do. The others voiced their confirmations as I braced myself.

I waited until I heard the muffled _bang _of the breaching charges before I kicked the hatch open and dropped down just as the room filled with the sound of gunfire.


	4. Chapter Three: Trial By Fire

**Two Shots**

By Commentaholic

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><p><strong>Chapter Three: <strong>_Trial By Fire_

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><p><em>A lot of thought is put into training a Runner nowadays. Back when Faith was still under Merc's leadership, the Training Grounds were just a ramshackle cluster of obstacles that taught a Runner the various rooftop tricks that he or she would need while traversing the rooftops of The City while on missions.<em>

_That was a simpler time. Back before the threat of Icarus reached full strength. Now all Runner Training Grounds are manned by attack drones with stunner rounds._

_In order to... 'graduate', one had to make it through the course without being taken down._

_It was a trial by fire. The first of many._

_One could never tell what would pop up during a job, so Runners were required to take the RAT (the Runner Aptitude Test. Don't ask me why they chose that acronym...) every month. _

_I barely made it. I probably wouldn't have done so without Faith's training._

_She was so proud of me when I finally nailed it... on the third try._

_But that didn't take away from the warm feeling I got when she patted me on the back and told me that I'd done well._

_Then I was given the second half of the test._

_A delivery._

_Faith wished me luck and embraced me before I left._

_Nobody knew why she took such a keen interest in my training and in my career... Though some suspected._

_But nobody could ever know, or else we'd both be at risk._

_-Sly's Journal, March 5th, 2037_

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><p>Bullets whizzed past me as I fell into the room below, ducking and rolling as I landed. I looked quickly around the room and immediately found a target: There. Over by the window. I raised my handgun and sent four bullets on their merry way to pound into the target. One hit the kevlar vest, but three went straight through his helmet's tinted visor. He toppled over, dead. His machine gun slipped from his grasp as he fell. I noted its location for later use in case the firefight turned ugly.<p>

I slid up against a wall and peered around a corner just in time to duck back as a body was hurled towards me on a column of spattering blood, accompanied by a large _boom_ from Hops' shotgun. I grabbed the fallen guard's handgun to compliment my own as I aimed around the corner, firing into the exposed back of a PK trooper, who dropped his rifle and clutched at his back as he fell to his knees. Then he fell to the ground and moved no more.

A bullet whizzed past my ear, reminding me of...

_I leapt over the barbed wire, narrowly avoiding the spray of tranq shots and rubber bullets that perforated the air. I ducked into a small alcove between a ramp and a platform to get my bearings. I risked a glance up at the observation room, where Faith and some other Runners watched, silently evaluating me._

_My eyes locked on Faith, who looked at me and nodded reassuringly. Her confidence was all I needed._

_I tensed and sprinted up and out, back into the fray._

I hopped up and rounded the corner, aiming at two guards with the two handguns I had acquired, my own safely tucked into the back of my pants. I fired at the guards, some of which had the sense to duck behind cover, until the two pistols clacked empty. I tossed them aside and darted forward. I vaulted over the first one's cover and launched a powerful kick into his face, sending him reeling. I followed up the kick with a one-two punch, sending him into Unconsciousville.

I looked to the side just in time to see Hops curb-stomping the other one. We exchanged nods before heading over to assist Digit, who, to be honest, didn't even need our help. A cluster of PK guardsmen lay on the ground in puddles of their own blood as Digit lit up one of her cigarettes. I grinned at her and she inhaled before smiling back, smoke curling out from between her teeth.

"Nice work, everyone." I said, "Now reload. We don't know what we could find in the next room."

We took a moment to prepare ourselves before stacking up outside of the last room. The room that Kreeg was being held in, according to our intelligence network.

I took a deep breath before kicking down the door. We poured in, guns at the ready...

But there was nothing. No Kreeg... Nobody. There was a cardboard box in the middle of the floor, though.

I walked up and flipped open one of the flaps, revealing a digital display.

_**00:05... 00:04...**_


	5. Chapter Four: Expect the Unexpected

**Two Shots**

By Commentaholic

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><p><strong>Chapter Four: <strong>_Expect the Unexpected_

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><p><em>When one runs along rooftops for a living, one can never be too careful.<em>

_A gust of wind, a wavering platform, a slippery patch, a piece of paper... anything can cause even the most skilled Runners to fall to their deaths. _

_Even Faith had such an incident. Back just before Merc's death. She told me about it once._

_She'd been running along a pipe when, to her surprise, it snapped clean in two. Luckily, there was a building not _too _far below... but it was still enough of a fall to take her out of the game for a while._

_Merc suspected sabotage. Celeste thought it was a moment of bad judgement on Faith's part. Kreeg was neutral on the topic. Perhaps he knew more than he let on. Perhaps he knew the truth, but didn't want to believe it._

_Either way, whatever the reason, it taught Faith a very valuable lesson. And she passed this lesson on to me the day I joined. _

_You have to always be aware of your surroundings. Know what's going on and try to predict your cause and the world's effect._

_Expect the unexpected._

_-Sly's Journal, March 5th, 2037_

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><p><strong>00:03...<strong>

A hand grabbed the back of my shirt, hauling me away from the box. The world seemed to slow to a crawl as I was pulled backwards, my feet and arms flailing, out of the room. I could tell that it wasn't my teammates because... well... they were now in front of me (as I was dragged backwards) trying to follow as fast as their legs could carry them.

Behind them, a blinding light erupted, framing their silhouettes and burning their outlines into my retinas.

Then all hell broke loose.

What felt like a tidal wave of hot air swept over me, hurling me (and my rescuer) through the air, slamming against the opposite wall. The windows shattered overhead, sending shards of glass outward into the main area of the building.

I don't know how many moments I lay there, gasping for breath as my back ached from where it had impacted the wall (I had just the rotten sort of luck to hit a _corner)._ I could taste ash in the air, as well as blood on my tongue from where I'd bitten it. I was lucky that I'd only nicked the tip. At the rate I was going, if that tongue had been out far enough... I could've bitten it clear off.

My ears were ringing. I could feel something dripping down from the back of my head. I reached up to feel it and my hand came away sticky and red with blood.

_Red..._ I thought hazily, thinking on the irony of it.

I looked around, eyes locking on the two charred corpses that...

_Digit... Hops..._

I could barely make out their now-burnt figures, if only because of their athletic build: Hops, big, tall and muscular... Digit: spry, tiny, yet not too thin. Funny... she'd always complained about her weight... not like it mattered now... What a strange thing to be remembering...

My eyes fell to my hand.

A red, fingerless-glove clad hand reached out and grabbed mine, hauling me to my feet. As I was pulled up, a fresh wave of dizziness assaulted me, sending me back down to my knees, clutching at my stomach. I vomited what little I had eaten before the mission, leaving a vile taste on my tongue to join the ash and blood.

"_... your feet, now!" _came a distant voice. A familiar voice. My unfocused eyes slowly crawled up, moving past red-and-black shoes... white cargo pants... black tank-top... that signature near-eye tattoo... "_I said, ON YOUR FEET, SLY!"_

I coughed, "_Faith? _What are you doing-"

"Is this really the time for 20 Questions? We've gotta move!" she said, trying to pull me out the door.

I stopped her, "But..." I whispered, looking back at my team's bodies.

Faith's eyes softened and she placed a hand on my shoulder. "I know... We'll come back for them later. But right now, we have to get you out of here."

"What about Kreeg?"

"I don't know! Not here. They moved him... they killed him... Whatever. I just don't know." she said, running out onto the catwalk which was now missing a good chunk of its span due to the explosion. She leapt the gap with the skill of a practiced Runner.

I hesitated, glancing back at my team. _Scratch that... _former _team..._

"_I'm__ sorry..._" I whispered.

And so we broke the Runner's Creed. We left them behind.

We ran. We ran very fast.

But not fast enough to escape the guilt that would hunt me for the rest of my life.

Little did I know that the worst was yet to come.


	6. Chapter Five: Running and Gunning

**Two Shots**

By Commentaholic - Alpha 02

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><p><strong>Chapter Five:<strong> _Running and Gunning_

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><p><em>The Runners didn't used to be armed. They didn't need to be. <em>

_As long as the Runners stayed out of the Cops' way, they were left alone and allowed to continue on their transport of illegal information._

_Ah.. the good old days. Back when the cops were lazy._

_Ironic, isn't it? That I should be talking about them that way? I used to be one of them, after all... Before I realized that beyond all the glossed-up news reports and propaganda, there was a secret war being waged. It also took a rather rude awakening that involved dangling off a building because I knew too much. Luckily, Faith came and saved me. That's how I met the Runners and my eyes were opened._

_But anyway, I'm getting off-topic._

_Back in Faith's younger years, it was all about speed. Knocking out a guard if need be, but nothing lethal._

_But once the cops (there I go again with the hypocrisy) started gunning for us, we either had to step up our game or get with the program._

_Most of us chose the latter._

_Faith never lost the old ways._

_She's a Runner. Not a Gunner._

_Every life is precious, even the lives of those that are trying to end yours._

_Thus endeth the lesson._

_-Sly's Journal, May 15th, 2036_

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><p>My arm ached as I swung from the pipe hanging between the ventilation system that hung between buildings. I released at the critical moment, allowing my momentum to carry me through the air to the next building, rolling as I landed, as I had been taught. Pain splashed across my back, reminding me (yet again) what had just happened.<p>

Like I'd ever forget...

Faith called out to me, "Come on! We've got to get to a safe distance before they close down this section of the city!" she said, sliding through a hole in a fence. I hopped it, not having the luxury of the extra time to head over to the hole. My body complained, but I politely told it to shut up. When it refused, I began ignoring it. That's when it stopped complaining.

Then it started _whining._

Those who know the difference will know the annoyance and pain that I started to go through. But I couldn't stop. We couldn't stop for anything, much less for a petty thing like accomodating a passing pain. I didn't even remark on it. Any comments would no doubt cause Faith to stop, just for me. I knew that she would, too.

We grabbed a cable and slid down it to another building, running as we landed, not giving up any momentum.

Then Faith slowed to a halt, her head turning slowly. I ran up behind her, panting, "What is i-" She halted my words by holding a finger up to my lips.

"Shhh!" she hissed, standing perfectly still, listening.

I looked around, trying to see what she was sensing.

She relaxed. "Nothing. It was nothing. Just my imagination."

"Come on, Faith, I've known you too long. I know when you're lying." I whispered.

Faith glanced around at the surrounding buildings. "I thought I heard something, but like I said. It was probably nothing. Let's keep going." she said, giving a small skip to gain some momentum to keep running.

My hand strayed to the holster strapped to the back of my belt, but found it empty. Then I remembered that my pistol had been thrown from my grasp during the explosion. We were Running this one.

Six blocks and countless jumps, slides and drops later, we were almost to the nearest safehouse. Once there, we could call for backup and an escort back to the hub.

Faith leapt down ahead of me onto a crane's cab, straightening and beckoning towards me, starting up the long arm of the machine. Then, in an instant, I heard two shots ring out amid the background noise of the city's night life.

A warning died in my throat as I realized I was too late. A spatter of blood cast a red splash upon Faith's ivory-hued pants as the twin bullets struck her in the leg and she stumbled, a look of shock on her face as she lost her balance on the narrow span.

My eyes widened in horror as she slipped from her place on the crane.

She began to fall.


	7. Chapter Six: The Next Great Adventure

**Two Shots**

By: Commentaholic - Alpha 02

**A/N: Long overdue. I just wanted to do it justice without actually... finishing it. Might make an ongoing series. But who knows how long a story could go with this concept? Any thoughts on the matter?**

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><p><strong>Chapter Six:<strong> _The Next Great Adventure_

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><p>She deserved better than this.<p>

I cradled the limp form in my arms, wishing it wasn't so. But the arms limp, bones shattered... the head at an unnatural angle... They all argued against my most urgent wishes.

Faith was dead. My Faith... My shaking fingers touched the pale skin of her cheek.

It was all I had been able to do to stomach my grief and recover her body instead of running off into the gloomy, wet, rainy night. Maybe I'd even manage to track down that bastard that shot her. By the time I stopped staring into the dark abyss between the buildings, hoping she would climb her way back out, her killer was long gone.

I brought her inside an abandoned building... and managed to get a half-coherent call for help out before my resolve wavered and my mind shattered.

In a single night, I had lost all those I had held dear. Digit... Hops...

Faith...

_God... where did it all go wrong?_

I turned my face towards the dark skies.

"Why?" I whispered pitifully.

Then all the floodgates opened and I broke down crying. Tears blurred my vision as I screamed. I don't know how long.

I hardly even noticed when strong arms took me up and bore us away. Faith and I.

And after my voice died, hoarse from all the agonized screaming, after my eyes were read and all the tears were shed... only one thought really remained in my mind.

They would pay. If it was the last thing I did, I would make whoever did this pay.

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><p><em>Death... comes all too soon for some people. I had my own brush with death not too long ago... And now I face another kind of death.<em>

_They say that death is the next great adventure. Life is clinging to the edge of a knife, between the dark and the light. You have to choose which side to fall on... and it's a long way down._

_There's a point in everybody's life at which they make that choice. Some make it sooner than others. Faith made hers when she saved me. When all the odds and all her friends told her it was suicide to keep trying, she wouldn't quit on me._

_She rescued me that day. Rescued me from Jackknife._

_That was the day I made my choice, I suppose. I chose to continue walking that edge. Or does that mean I avoided the choice? Faith always seemed to walk the brighter side of that path. I'd like to think I'll follow her on that path._

_The Mirror's Edge. The Way of the Runner._

_I suppose... I can't really go by my name anymore. That person is dead. A couple of the others are taking to calling me Sleipnir, after some deific entity. Some god's horse or something. I can't really say I'm fond of the whole name, but it's stuck, so far at least. Digit and Hops seem to like it, so maybe it's not that bad. I REFUSE to go by the full name, though. I suppose... "Sly"? Works for me. Faith seems to like it, too. I hope I don't let her down._

_So... I guess that's the end of the old me, eh? Her death, as it were. Metaphorically, of course..._

_Hello world, say hello to Sly..._

_And goodbye to Kate._

_-Sly's Journal, April 29th, 2036_


End file.
